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‘Diabolo means devil, it’s supposed to be hot, like in hell,’ hinted the waiter overhearing the comment and asked if they wanted a refill.

‘Oh, that is very good to know. Thank you,’ replied Katya with a little irritation noticing that at the moment she reminded herself her own mother who didn’t like when people answered questions that weren’t directed to them.

As the waiter turned around, Katya’s eyes slid to his butt. Addressing the girls she said in Russian, ‘А у него классная попка! (Meaning ‘What a nice ass he has!’)

The waiter turned around and said in pure Russian, ‘Спасибо!’ (meaning ‘thanks’)

Katya turned red like the tomato sauce on the Diabolo pizza.

In a couple of hours, they appeared at Filip’s place, under the pretense that they needed some German magazines or books to make a project for their German course. The girls didn’t feel uncomfortable about inviting themselves to somebody else’s place so fast. Could their way be described as chutzpah?

Filip’s flat. All white, same as theirs. Again they felt like being in a hospital. Only later the girls learnt that almost all German apartments were white, rented ones in particular.